Page 164 of Harnessed in Gold

We hurry up the steps and down the sidewalk, nearly tripping over a squirrel darting across our path. A few yards away, Rime waits for us, leaning against Leo’s car.

He tosses Leo his keys. “You alright, little psychic?”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

“It’s in the trunk,” he says, opening the door for me. “That’s the best I could do.”

I manage a smile as I slide into the backseat. “Thanks.”

On the short drive to the church, I describe the energy coming off the bracelet. “I, or whoever I was feeling, was dying.”

“Then it couldn’t’ve been Ember,” Leo reasons. “By the time she was executed, the bracelet was long gone.”

“That’s what I figured.” I watch the downtown streetlights give way to a dark country road. “And the weird thing was, I don’t think I was alone. I think I was with other people who were suffering anddying too. I was mourning them, and at the same time, I knew I was next.”

“I wonder if it’s the caillecha you felt.”

“The nine she killed?”

“Doesn’t have to be,” Rime points out. “Ember was pretty well-known for mass slaughter.”

Leo sucks in a breath, his frown visible in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, but not by her own hand.”

“Do you know for a fact she killed the caillecha herself?” Rime asks.

“No. Just a hunch.”

I lean between the front seats. “The truth is in the bracelet, you know. If I had?—”

“No way,” Leo warns, at the same time that Rime snorts, “Fuck no.”

“It’s the caillecha’s job to figure that out,” Leo says. “Not yours.”

I sit back in my seat, resisting the urge to pout. They’re right. There’s no reason to put myself through that again. Curiosity has already taken too many of my nine lives.

We wind along the driveway through the woods until Redemption Baptist Church comes into view. It’s strangely eerie at night. Two meager street lamps, one on each side of the porch, cast weak pools of light on the steps to the main doors. I huddle in the backseat, fighting the weird feeling that we’re not here alone. I can imagine that each night, as the sun goes down in front of the church, God goes down with it. And as the moon rises, the spirits take their place in the tall pines that tower over the churchyard.

Leo pulls into a spot close to the entrance. There are no other cars in the lot, but the church’s stained-glass windows glow softly and an orange-yellow light shines through the crack between the double entrance doors.

I ask, “Is she even here?”

“Maybe.” Leo points to the lights flickeringbetween the swaying trees at the far end of the lot. “If not, she’s probably close. Usually, these old churches have parsonages nearby.”

We agree Leo should run up and scope out the church while Rime and I wait in the car.

“Once I know it’s safe, I’ll either text you or come back and get you.” Leo takes Rime’s phone—his own a casualty of the river—closes the car door softly, and jogs up the steps.

I can’t stop myself from picturing the worst. The moment he pushes open those doors, dozens of evil Brier followers will spring out from between the pews and ambush him.

Click-click.Rime cocks the revolver, sending my heart into a violent lurch.

“Could younot?”

“Sorry, a ghrá.” He throws up a sound shield. “Gotta be prepared.” He dips his head, peering out the windshield at the steps, already on the lookout.

I alternate between checking my phone and craning my neck to watch the front doors. What’s going on in there? Leo’s been gone forever. A glance at my phone tells me he’s only been inside for two minutes. Impossible. I clear the screen. Something’s wrong with this thing. It can’t tell time and it’s not sending messages from Rime’s phone.

“It’s a trap,” I moan, squirming and trying to get a good breath. “I know it is.”